


He must like me for me

by Okkk



Category: House M.D.
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, One Shot, deep shit cuz it be like that sometimes, every day things
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-30
Updated: 2020-06-30
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:54:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 9,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24988633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Okkk/pseuds/Okkk
Summary: A collection  of one shots about House/chase and how they deal with every day situations. Each story is based around a word or a sentence.
Relationships: Robert Chase/Greg House
Comments: 7
Kudos: 74





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Ok so i'll post two fics per chapter. This was born out of boredom and a need to craft my own mini House/chase world after reading mountains of sickeningly fantastic chouse fics.  
> The fic called 'heat' was inspired by the chapter the sound of waves from the fic 30 kisses by Simon.

**Drugs**

Addiction has always had a part in Chases life. From being brought up by an alcoholic mother and ending up having to take care of her, to studying it in school and then dealing with it occasionally as a doctor. He knows the intricacies of it, and it has accompanied him around everywhere, as inescapable as it ever had been but even more so now because of him.

Him being House of course. The be all and end all of things ever since Chase had been accepted to work under him to finally getting _under_ him. Not just physically but emotionally too. He had known to some extent that they had a peculiar way of being around each other but it had established itself after House had kissed him.

After that, nothing was the same again. That one kiss had made his entire universe rupture into an explosion of stars and it had burned but god had it felt good.

It was the greatest thing to ever happen to him, to them, but it was tearing him apart to watch House now, as he was and not be able to do anything, but that was what House did. He made you love him and then would force you to watch helplessly while he destroyed himself repeatedly.

The only thing that he could help with was to be an enabler, but he was not Wilson and House had never once suggested that he should be.

Chase was his supporter, his lover and he’d never refuse to give House a prescription for Vicodin because unlike the rest of them, he understood that the bulk of the addiction was dependence but still, House refused to do that to Chase.

The pain however, had become so unbearable, every single day of it chipping away at House, that it’d shattered any semblance of moderation towards the Vicodin and become Houses metaphorical crutch.

Though he believed all of this, he was quietly grateful to House for not depending on him in that angle because doing so would be just like his childhood. The feeling of someone who loved you using you like that was indescribable and he felt he could only go through that once.

He knows its because above everything, House is nothing like either of his parents and loves him unconditionally.

Chase had cut himself off from all things that could lean into addiction and took it to such extremes that he only took painkillers when unable to sleep the pain off.

He’d stayed away from any substance but then House had pulled him in and now he was clinging to the older man like a lifeline, desperate and unyielding.

To finally have that love he’d craved his entire life was essential to his breathing now and he wouldn’t let it go, even if it meant that he’d fall to the ground on his bare knees.

House had shown him care. Pure care. He hadn’t realised how much he’d needed that until he’d slowly received it in smirks and shoulder bumps and soft kisses in the dark. Being forced to let that go meant he would crash because his whole life had built up to this moment.

Everything that he’d done to get to this very place had been worth it because somehow, it felt as though it was meant to be.

He knows what addiction is because of how he can’t go without an hour of checking up on House even if they’re in the same building.

He knows because every night, he can’t go to sleep if he isn’t moulded to House in bed. So, he stands there, and watches House destroy himself because he’d be a hypocrite if he told the older man to just stop it, right?

**Heat**

Chase sat with House and watched the older man take an afternoon snooze. Not able to help himself, Chase reached out and touched his cheek lightly. It was the peak of summer in August and as House has branded, ‘hell’ level heat. He had spent the whole month whining and permanently carrying around a handheld fan, not willing to share with anyone.

He’d managed to drag House out by promising him that he could take a nap the whole time they were there. House had eventually relented after Chases pleading and struggled to hide his smile at Chases triumphant one.

For House, the summer meant watching people do things he was no longer able to do like ride a bicycle or take long walks in the park. Careless things that still bothered him even though he’d had several long years to get used to the misery.

The heat did soften the pain slightly whereas the winter felt like it was biting chunks of his leg out. Other than that, it offered nothing but memories of what could’ve been and copious amounts of sweat from having to drag his leg around while the sun exuded its power.

It was different for Chase though.

Every time the summer rolled around; he was filled with melancholy. The all-encompassing heat reminded him of home. The warmth clothed him in equal amounts of sentimentality and pain.

Home was where everyone sounded like him and no one asked him to repeat anything twice. It was where his childhood friends were. It was where his surfboards were rotting away in the house his father had left and his mother had died in.

The heat here that House complained of was nothing compared to the temperatures it would soar to in Australia, the home of warm Christmases. He had often dreamt of being able to escape from everything, to be able to shroud himself in the cold winters of America so he could feel how he felt inside, on the outside.

Sure, there was nothing stopping him from going back and visiting but it frightened him. He had taken the first ticket out, eager to escape the places his problems were rooted in and hadn’t looked back since.

Going back to the place he had crumbled mentally in was somewhere he was reluctant to return to and so, even though the summer reminded him of home, he stayed here, halfway across the world in his carefully crafted bubble.

“Oi, wombat”

Chase looked down at Houses open eyes, his sight having wandered off somewhere in the distance and quickly removed his hand that was still lingering on Houses cheek. He coughed, embarrassed at having been caught off guard.

“Had a good sleep?” he asked, hoping House would not ask what he’d been daydreaming about. He did of course and Chase had been expecting it. He would not be House if he had not had.

“I was just…thinking of home” he said careful not to let the lump in his throat affect his speech. House dragged himself up off his bed of supple grass and leaned against the trunk. House was stumped for words and the little pang in his heart at the confession was involuntary.

“Do you wanna go home?”

House had looked at the grass when he’d asked that and Chase, eager to dispel any negative thoughts probably already making their way through Houses mind, grabbed his hand and squeezed it.

“No, it’s not…” and he trailed off not knowing where to start. House squeezed his hand back and was looking directly at him now so he took a deep breath and tried to explain as carefully as possible hoping his lovers feelings wouldn’t be hurt.

“It’s just that every time summer rolls around, the heat just reminds me of Australia and I feel a bit…lonely I guess. I’m not saying that you make me feel that way. The way I left was just…I guess it left this gap in me. I left because I was tired. Fed up. I’m better now and happy but Australia…that was my home, you know?”

He waited for House who had quietly listened up until this point and prepared for the oncoming berating or jokes.

House let go of his hand and it fell back to the grass. Chase tried not to panic.

House clenched his hand and seemed to be fighting against himself with what he was going to say. Chase, suddenly not wanting to hear it, laughed it off and told House to forget it, that it was stupid.

House just looked up at him like he’d grown two heads and harshly said “shut up”. Chase, taken aback at the roughness of his voice waited for him to carry on.

“Urgh don’t look so pitiful you idiot. I get it ok. I got being stuck between places too.” He chuckled humourlessly and carried on. “Half of my life was spent in other countries, my dad dragging me and my mom across the globe. I’d call a place my home over and over again only for it be snatched and replaced with something else.”

Chase, surprised that House was speaking sombrely like he seldom did, stayed silent only offering his support through a squeeze on his shoulder.

He heaved a huge sigh and quietly mumbled “what I’m trying to say is…you have a home with me” and he swallowed the urge to get up and never interact with Chase again. God, when had he turned into such a sob fest? _General hospital_ his mind helpfully supplied.

Before he could think anymore of his escape plan though, he suddenly had an armful of wombat, breath puffing into his neck. He gruffly reciprocated the embrace and brought his hand up to stroke the soft hair. Chase clenched tighter and then pulled back, pecking Houses cheek.

“I love you” he muttered, kissing his cheek again. House blushed slightly and then pushed Chase off altogether, getting up. Chase lay sprawled on the grass and House poked him with the cane.

“Get up mate” he said in an Australian accent. Chase scrambled to collect his book and caught up to House who had already started walking away.

“Where are we going?”

“To watch some home and away” he shot over his shoulder and carried on walking, leaving Chase in his wake, shocked and grinning. God, he loved that man.


	2. Chapter 2

**Piano**

Playing the piano. He’d been young, curious and wanting to learn a new skill. At that time, it had not meant anything other than having something to do to keep his mind occupied one summer.

Stacy. With Stacy, everything had been so fast. It was kissing and falling into bed and soaking in each other until they were sick of it and then they’d do it all over again. They’d push and pull, and it was volatile and then they were friends again the next day.

Golf, running, having dinners at actual restaurants meant that there was no time for anything else. The brand-new piano that House had brought to occasionally play on was left in the corner to collect dust. It had become a mere showpiece.

Wilson. The infarction had come fast and with it came the end of Stacy. Suddenly there was too much time on his hands. So much time and it was filled with nothing but bitter emptiness at what had been and what he’d lost.

Wilson had been there first-hand to see the despair take a hold of House like he’d never had to witness before.

It was painful. The piano was still there.

Not knowing how to say it directly but wanting to get the message across to House, he’d started leaving little articles on how depression could be helped by taking up a hobby.

It was completely ludicrous and Wilson knew it but House, the person who constantly had to be doing something was still now and it scared him. He wanted to help House. He wanted his friend back.

They were crumpled and thrown in the trash, there for Wilson to see. _Leave me alone_ it said but when had he ever been able to do that? Giving up was not an option so he spent a day going around the apartment under the farce that he was there to clean up to which he’d gotten a grunt.

Clubs. There were clubs shoved into the back of the coat closet along with a bunch of trainers and a basketball. That wouldn’t do.

He could leave books around, but he was pretty sure House continued to read, if the messy state of the shelf was anything to judge by. Something that could be done sitting down but was also productive.

_Come on, come on. Think_ and there it was staring him right in the face. Shrouded in darkness and standing alone, abandoned, was the piano.

He waited for House to fall asleep, reruns of general hospital still playing at a low murmur and set about cleaning the instrument.

Painstakingly, he wiped the dust off each key and then gave the whole thing a good wash. He stood back and admired it in all its former glory, now having been restored and hoped House would take the hint.

He came back the next day to check up on House and glimpsed over to the piano. It had not been opened. Slightly disappointed, he went back to the tv and tried to think of something else.

The week after, he’d jokingly brought a crochet kit and told House in no uncertain terms that they were going to sit there for the next hour and make some birds. It had remained untouched of course but House had rewarded him with a little smirk.

Two days later while on his way out, a piece of paper stuck itself to his shoe and he bent down to pick it up. Sheet music. The piano. He looked up quickly and sure enough, the lid was open. He glanced over at the sleeping man and grinned. It was going to be ok.

Chase. Knowing that House was the kind of person who had several skills down, he could not say that he’d been surprised to see the piano at his apartment.

He had however stopped to admire the beauty of it at the doorway until House had pushed him further in and then there hadn’t been time for much else.

House however had noticed that whenever the younger man came over, he would spend a significant proportion of the time sneaking glances at the piano. Finally, having had enough, he said “got a problem?” jokingly although he was curious as to why the Australian insisted on having eye sex with his piano.

“Um…no? Well actually…can I have a go?” Chase said, heart beating so fast he was afraid it would jump out. Oh god, he’d done it now. House was going to make fun of him and say no and then it would be awkward.

House smirked instead and said “go ahead, let’s see who’s better” and poked Chase with his cane when he stayed glued to the couch. Chase slowly made his way over and sat at the stool, touching the keys lightly.

He took a deep breath and relaxed, easing into a slow melody. He did not turn to see Houses expression but moved down slightly and let House take a seat next to him.

He sat and watched Chase for a minute and then joined into the well-known duet. The melody washed over them and the pleasure of playing with another was evident in their matching smirks at the last note.

“So? Am I _better_ than you?” Chase teased expecting to hear a whole analysis, but House just pecked him on the lips and limped back over to the sofa to watch the L word. Muted of course.

The unusually tender gesture made his heart thump in a painful way and he sat there, for a long time watching the tv from the piano stool marvelling in the fact that House had let him in on that. Into his apartment, into his life, into the piano playing. House met his eyes and pulled his tongue out, Chase returning with an even sillier face.

**Aching cold**

House hates the cold. Sure, he can function and go about his day normally as long as there’s something to do. He works twice as much than he does in the summer for his own sanity, what is left of it anyway.

Except he’s done his clinic hours for the week and the team had just wrapped up a case. There’s absolutely nothing to do but go home. So he does. Chase hadn’t mentioned anything about coming over so he goes alone.

Getting into his car, he turns the heat up and makes sure his coats collar is pulled up before pulling out and starting the dreaded ride home.

It does not take long for the air to leak through the worn windows of the car and by the time he reaches his apartment, he’s shivering. He can’t even muster the energy to pour himself a drink to warm up and instead makes for the bed.

Still wearing his clothes, he slides in and under the duvet, teeth chattering and counting to a hundred to dispel of any thoughts.

The longer he lays there though, unable to contract sleep, the more he loses the will to keep his brain occupied and soon he finds himself slipping back into his personal abyss.

_He’s shivering in the bathtub trying to curl his toes to get away from the ice cubes that seem intent on touching every part of his body. “Don’t like that do you clever boy?” his dad mocks him for what seems like the thousandth time and he’s so so cold but he manages to grit his teeth and say “love it”. For that he gets backhanded and he lets out a bitter chuckle, the hatred for his father threatening to choke him._

His hands and teeth are clenched and he’s too cold to relax. He curls up, pulling his knees to his chest and hopes that the duvet raised over his head will bring some warmth, however stifling it may be.

_He was in bed, curled up, duvet over his head, the darkness comforting compared to the harsh lighting of the bathroom. He was safe here. Dad couldn’t get him here._

Feeling the duvet being pulled back, he curls further into himself hoping that who ever it was _dad_ would just leave him alone for once. _Please._ Heat. Warmth. He looks down at what has been passed to him then looks up at the saviour. A hot water bottle.

Chase shrugs at his grateful look and mutters “I know you don’t like being cold and well…thought I’d grab this with the milk. Had them on discount” he adds at the end defensively not wanting to drive House away with his caring.

House holds the hot water bottle to his chest, soaking in the heat coming from it and convinces himself that whatever he’s feeling inside is just a side effect of the boiling water he’s hugging.

Silence fills the room and Chase, scrambling to spell the awkwardness away nods to the bedside table and House looks over, a steaming cup of hot chocolate sitting there waiting to be consumed.

“Where’s yours?” he asks, turning back over to the blond, unable to interpret the actions just yet without somehow spontaneously combusting.

Chase grins then. House had accepted it. He points to his stomach to indicate where his portion of the drink is and that elicits a snort from the older man. He watches as House drags himself up into a seated position and take a sip of the drink

“God you didn’t skimp on the sweet did you, sugar?”

Chase blushes slightly and replies “shut up. If I had not sweetened that enough to give you abscess’s, it wouldn’t have been enough for you”. He pulls his work clothes off and sighs in relief, slipping on jogger bottoms and one of Houses t-shirts.

He snatches the hot water bottle off of House once he’s in bed and feels his body relax finally after being wound up all day from working and watching House limp around in excess pain. He knows that the cold brings up…unpleasant memories for him and he’d be damned if he didn’t do something to help his…lover?

He feels the warmth being snatched and tossed further down the bed and is pulled into an embrace. He puts his arms around House and holds him in this rare display of affection.

The feeling of doing something right for House is gratifying and as he feels a soft kiss on his neck, he pulls back to kiss the older man back on the lips.

“What was that for?” Chase asks though he already knows. House shakes his head and Chase knows that House will not elaborate but then House looks at him and smiles. A wide, genuine smile and that’s enough.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pporappippam.

**Despair**

Fuck House thinks. The feeling is back again, well the lack of feeling. Most of the time he was able to function normally under his misery but every so often, it would pop up from the darkness and make him feel…nothing. Absolute despair.

It was raw and ugly and followed him around everywhere.

He cares about absolutely nothing in these moments and deep down he knows that that is when it’s out of control because even when he doesn’t care, he _cares._

It’s in one of these instances that Chase decides to badger him at work about something so silly, so small but to House, it seems colossal and he pushes him away with “go away you idiot. I’m not in the mood for your particular brand of idiocy”.

He turns then in his chair and goes back to his game which has been struggling to hold his attention for the past fifteen minutes. Yesterday, he had itched to be fully rested to be able to play but today? It was just so _boring._ He misses Chases look when he leaves.

He gets home and throws his coat on the floor, not even in the mood to aim for something higher like the couch right in front of him. His stomach rumbles but he forgoes the food which he can’t be bothered to throw in the microwave for the life of him and settles for two cans of an energy drink.

The tv blares and the bright colours flick over his face but it might as well not be on since he seems to be staring right through the screen. It is when the show rolls over to the ads after an hour of nonstop yapping that House realises that Chase hasn’t come home yet.

He looks at the clock lazily and sees that it’s 9:45pm. He usually arrives on time, but House decides to wait. I’ll give him one more episode of this crap House thinks, and he goes back to the TV hoping desperately that something, anything will interest him.

10:15pm.

10:35pm.

11.00pm.

House picks up his cell phone to check for any messages but there is none. Not even one. Ok House thinks. He calls and it rings right up to the voicemail. He hangs up and rings again. And again.

“Leave your message after the tone…”

“Chase, where the hell are you?” He yells into his cell phone, the feeling of anger just pushing out of him. Feeling. Feeling something.

He waits another fifteen minutes, giving Chase a chance to get in touch with him but there’s nothing. Struggling to not let any negative thoughts bombard his already over stimulated mind, he rushes over to Chases apartment.

Knocking on the door proves to be useless and he’s not in the mood for waiting around so he snatches the key out of his pocket and slips in.

“Chase?” he says, the apartment shrouded in darkness.

“Chase?” he repeats a little more desperately now going further into the living room. It is there after squinting that he finds Chase curled on the couch, his face pressed into it.

He shakes Chases shoulder and is shocked when Chase tries to shrug his hand off. “Go away” Chase mumbles, his back tense. House pushes at his shoulder until Chase is forced to look at him, lying on his back.

“What’s wrong?” he asks blankly even though there’s bile rising in his throat at seeing Chase this way. He looks sad. Chase looks over somewhere else into his apartment, so he won’t have to meet Houses eyes and only looks back when House touches his shoulder again, this time tenderly.

“Thought you couldn’t be bothered for my particular brand of idiocy” Chase said bitterly, his green eyes sparkling and contradicting his tone. House, confused for a second, remembers faintly shrugging him off sometime in the afternoon and closes his eyes.

Idiocy. The only person who was an idiot was him. Fuck, he just couldn’t do anything right, could he?

He looks back over at Chase and is taken aback by the sudden emptiness in them. His stomach hurts so intensely just then that he has to crouch down on the floor, near Chase and grabs the younger mans face with both hands.

God, he had seen that look a hundred times, always in the mirror but never back at him through eyes that were not his own. The fear that he somehow felt even an ounce of the despair that House had spent the whole day in was repulsive.

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking” he blurted out, eager to erase that look off of his lover’s face. He _was_ sorry.

Chase shut his eyes taking a deep breath and then touched one of Houses hands. He sat up and kissed House, helping him onto the sofa, his leg no doubt hurting.

“Why’d you say it?” Chase asked. He knew that House was often absent minded and said things that didn’t mean anything, but he’d also spent the whole morning and afternoon ignoring Chase and it’d hurt more as a consequence.

House nearly said I don’t know, and he knew Chase would just accept that and forgive him but…Chase needed to know for when this happened again. He deserved to know.

“Sometimes…every once in a while, I turn off” and he trails off unable to elaborate anymore than that. “You mean gloomy?” Chase asks squeezing Houses hand.

Houses mouth slides into a little smile and he replies, “More than that”. He hopes that Chase will understand that because anything more would leave him feeling grossly vulnerable.

The younger man nods and says “okay. You know I love you right?” and House nods back because he does know. He knows and even though right now he does not understand it because how could anyone love a carcass of a human, he accepts it. He does not want to be alone right now.

**You’ve got such a pretty smile**

Chase has lot of smiles.

He has the smile that he shows his patients. Wide and friendly.

He has the one he makes when House makes a silly joke the other ducklings are too stiff to laugh at.

There’s the one where someone asks him about home. That’s a sad one.

The one he tries to hide from House when he’s done something sweet. It’s small and only one side of his mouth rises.

The eye sparkling one.

The annoyed one where he takes a deep breath and exhales, all while trying to hold it up against gravity it seems.

There’s the bashful one that seems to be reserved for when House publicly declares his love for Chase, either through a vulgar comment or a soft touch.

He has the content one. That comes with no thought and normally shows when he feels House breathe on the side of his neck in the darkness. No one gets to see that.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cuddling was inspired by Phantom limbs from the author magie_05. Fucking great fic.

**Intense**

Everything with House is always so intense. Chase realises that as he falls into the trap lain out for him and he’s so stuck that he doesn’t care about getting out. He had walked willingly into it and this is the punishment.

He kneels in front of House and worships him in everything he does, not out of force but out of love. An all-consuming love that he drowns in. Vines hold him down and soon enough he stops trying to struggle out of them and lets them grow everywhere.

House chokes him and he leans in, begging for more every single time. He wants this. Running is not an option, staying isn’t either. This is it. The final frontier of everything. If this love kills him then at least he will know he did not die in vain. It is a love worth living for and it makes Chase feel powerful, like he’s standing on top of the highest mountain and falling wouldn’t do any damage.

Every time House touches him, the poison ivy grows just a little further taking him under. Chase loves it. Every moment has led up to this. Every smile, touch, kiss, fight, all of it. House is his king and Chase is the subject on his knees.

Does House know how much he possesses Chase? Does he know how deep it runs? How far he’s wedged himself into every crevice of Chases being? His hooks are sunk deep into Chases skin, but Chase does not scream. He’s a masochist for the pain and raises himself up to push the hooks in deeper.

Chase wants it so that they will never part. He wants them stuck to each other, unable to leave. He wants to undo some of his vines and tie House onto him and keep him close. He’ll nail them together and he doesn’t care about how much it hurts. He needs this.

**Cuddling**

Chase was affectionate. House for the most part, was not. So, when they started to spend more time together, House tried not to, but ultimately felt stifled.

It was stupid but he’d spent so long avoiding any sort of touch that wasn’t instigated by him that it felt unnatural for Chase to touch him just because he wanted to.

Chase though, whether he realised or not, did not ease up on the touching or acknowledge that his lover didn’t want it. The older did not want Chase to think that he could not touch him, so he opted not to say anything even though sometimes the rejection was involuntary, and he’d end up flinching.

Even with Stacy, they’d loved each other but she had not been affectionate. She’d showed her love through wit and passionate sessions behind closed doors. Though loath to admit such a fact, House came to the realisation that Chase was truly the first person to openly show him affection with no consequence.

Why was Chase doing this? Curling around him in the night, kissing his cheek, squeezing his shoulder when they were alone at work, even laying his hand on Houses thigh a few times on their way to work? They were just…having fun, weren’t they?

_Weren’t they?_

To test his hypothesis, to prove himself right even though he knew it would lead to destruction, he decided to distance himself from Chase. Yes. Chase wouldn’t bother to push it, he wasn’t worth the effort after all, he wasn’t stupid.

It started with turning his head away slightly when Chase leaned in for kisses on the cheek, his favourite spot it seemed. Chase did not seem phased however and instead kissed him on his ear.

He stopped taking rides to work with Chase, instead opting to take his bike, enjoying the fresh air and his legs free of any wandering hands. Yes, it felt great.

As soon as they were done in bed, House would push himself away from Chase and if the younger wanted to cuddle and reach for House, House would quietly move further away and closer to the edge of the bed.

It was one of these nights when he woke just before dawn to go to the toilet and found Chase sitting on the bed, his head down looking dejected.

He ignored the anxious feeling in his stomach and went to the toilet. Once there, he stared at himself in the mirror. Looking at his aged face, at all the wrinkles and greying hair, he wondered not for the first time, what Chase saw in him. Well, what Chase _used_ to see in him if his stance was anything to go by.

He took a deep breath and went out, steeling himself for what he’d predicted. Chase shouting, telling him he could not be bothered with this sham of a relationship. That he did not have the energy for House.

Instead, Chase stayed in that position, slumped and looking…pathetic if House was honest with himself. About to ruin things even further, he opened his mouth to tell Chase that but shut up when he saw a tear glisten on Chases face. No not a tear, _tears._

Heart thumping, he clutched onto his cane and stood there just watching. What was he supposed to do? He’d done this. This was exactly why they would not work.

In the middle of self-deprecating, he hadn’t noticed Chase get up but found that he couldn’t push him away once Chase had draped himself over House. He sniffed into Houses neck and mumbled “what did I do?”

_YOU? You didn’t **do** anything you idiot. It’s me. _IT’S ME.

House stayed silent and Chase pulled back slightly to look at his face. House however was looking at the floor and felt his chin being jerked back towards Chases where he came face to face with his tear stained face.

Oh god. He’d done this.

“Don’t you like me anymore?” Chase asked brokenly, sounding desperate and needy and so opposite how he normally did that it made House sick. To reduce him to this mess and for what? To prove himself right?

“I’m no good for you.” House finally replied, voice sounding scratchy and he tried to step away from the embrace, but Chase held on tight and kissed him.

“I don’t care” he said kissing him again. On his cheeks, his forehead, his eyelids and then finally his lips again. House let him, couldn’t even find it in himself to stop him.

“I don’t care” he repeated tucking his face into Houses neck and hugging him.

“Chase…” House mumbled but he felt Chase shake his head and clutch him tighter. Chase finally pulled away and stood in front of House looking him right in the eyes and fiercely said “you’re not doing this to us. I know exactly what you are doing, and it won’t work on me. I’m not leaving you no matter how hard you push me away.”

House sighed and said, “you don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“House, I _love_ you okay? So please, stop this now” Chase said nervous but adamant in getting House to understand that he really wasn’t leaving.

House looked shocked and started trembling slightly at the confession. Chase gently led him to the bed and pushed him down. Letting the younger do so, he looked up at Chase and felt his heart twinge as he saw the moonlight hit a side of the youngers head and illuminate his golden hair. He reached up and caressed the youngers cheeks unconsciously.

Chase smiled and he pulled his hand away harshly, but Chase grabbed it and put it back onto his face, covering it with his own hand.

“Don’t” Chase whispered, and House closed his eyes mumbling “okay.”


	5. Chapter 5

**We belong together**

Chase does this stupid thing sometimes when he knows House isn’t in the mood and is going to ignore him in the morning. He leaves a single sticky note on the refrigerator with a dad joke on it.

The first time he’d done it, House had actually laughed, completely shocked and then folded it up and put it into his shirts breast pocket. It was silly but having that little bit of Chase there, with him, made him feel just a little like the day wouldn’t be so bad.

The really foolish thing though, is that House keeps every single one. He hopes the blond never finds out but even thinking about throwing out those little paper morsels of love seems wasteful.

It’s one of those sorts of days where House stumbles into the kitchen grimacing and automatically looks over to the refrigerator secretly hoping for a sticky square.

The fridge however looks as empty as ever and he turns away in disappointment convincing himself that he is not let down from the lack of some silly words.

As he turns around, he sees a plate stacked with pancakes and smirks slightly when he sees the cheeky face drawn on them with chocolate sauce. He picks the plate up to take a bite and stops when he sees something flutter back down onto the counter.

He can’t help the stupid explosion of affection that explodes in his chest as he reads the note and when he leaves the apartment, ready to go finally after an hour of getting ready, he slips this one into the back pocket of his jeans.

_Idiot. You thought I’d forgotten? Love you, you birdbrain.”_

**Flowers**

Flowers, wilted slightly were lying on Houses desk. Chase looked over to the other room and saw that he was the first one. He stepped over and inspected them for a note. For a second, he thought that perhaps House had left them for him to find, but that was stupid since he’d just seen him an hour ago and these weren’t new.

He lifted them closer and caught a whiff of something. Sweet. Taking a deeper sniff, his face scrunched slightly in disgust. He knew that smell too well. Cameron. He resisted the urge to crush them or just throw them into a trash can and put them back down.

It was great not having to explain themselves or have the hospital gossip about their relationship but there were also setbacks. Well, setback to be precise in the form of Houses number one crusher. Why did she feel the need to suffocate House with her obsession constantly?

Even whilst they had dated, she hadn’t been subtle about her attraction to the older man and Chase wondered how they’d managed to stay together as long as they did. It was laughable.

“Want some coffee?” he heard, and he turned, Foreman looking at him questioningly and he nodded, grateful that it hadn’t been Cameron catching him lurking around in Houses office.

He took the offered mug and sat down, tensing when House finally walked in and watched him slow down when he saw the flowers. He could not see Houses expression, but he turned just then and caught Chases eyes, an eyebrow raised slightly in question.

_Did you get these?_

Chase shook his head but before he could see House reply, Cameron had walked in front of him and thrown a couple of files onto the table.

“Case.” She said and House limped over, leaving the flowers there in his office uncaringly. Cameron moved to get herself some coffee and Chase watched her. She didn’t seem to be acting any different although he himself could attest to the fact that she had a master poker face.

They started discussing the case and Chase forced himself to engage in the conversation, throwing out a few suggestions and making quick side glances to see if Cameron would let up. House appointed them to run some tests and they got up, ready to leave. Before Cameron left the room however, he caught her quickly looking over at the office.

Chase watched her walk off then, a slightly smug smile on her face at seeing the flowers still there. For all he knew though, she had probably interpreted that as House accepting the gesture.

He rolled his eyes at her pathetic attempt and went to follow her but was stopping by House calling out his name.

Chase stepped back into the room and shut the door knowing that this conversation did not need to be heard by the whole of Princeton Plainsboro.

“You know, don’t you?” House said with a smirk as Chase dropped his bland expression and showed annoyance.

“It’s Cameron, I could _smell_ her on them” Chase replied, trying and failing to not sound jealous.

Houses smirk widened and he said “and here I thought you’d actually decided to gift me for once” teasingly. The blond shook his head and said, “oh please, like you want a bunch of flowers.”

 _Does he?_ thought Chase. Damn Cameron for putting doubts into his head. House shook his head and put on a serious face saying, “it’s fine, I’ll keep these.”

“No, you won’t” Chase heard himself saying and he was shocked but didn’t follow up with anything because although it’d come out of his mouth accidently, he meant it. Houses smirk was still there but his eyes betrayed him as they showed disbelief at Chases commanding tone.

“And what makes you think that?”

Chase walked over to his desk and threw them into the trash can below. “The fact that you’re with me and not her. That is what makes me think that _House_.” He stepped closer to the older man and pressed hard onto his collarbone where he had left bruises last night.

House having completely forgotten about the flowers, leaned into Chase and the younger moved his lips to Houses ear and bit the lobe whispering “you’re mine”. Houses eyes had closed, and Chase smiled at his reaction.

“Later” he threw as he walked out of the room to catch up with Cameron and House cursed himself for letting him get away with that display.

The next day, Cameron had avoided his eyes when he entered the room and he felt slightly guilty for leaving the flowers in the trash can. He had told her it was useless to try and pursue him in the earlier days, but she’d insisted on carrying on quietly. Besides, it had not really been him that’d thrown the flowers away.

He sent them to check on the patient for updates on their condition and walked over to his desk, having missed them before from immediately going to talk to the others. There, lying on his desk scattered, were a small bunch of periwinkle blue forget-me-nots.


	6. Chapter 6

**We end our day up on the roof**

The sunset is devastatingly beautiful and Chase sits watching it on the edge of the hospital roof. He watches people go to their cars, patients and doctors alike. He watches people having their 5th smoke of the day, in dark corners under lampposts. The amber streaks offer a dreamlike reality, a feeling of calmness and forever Sundays.

Most times, he cannot stand being alone but this feels like a treat that mother nature offers with no judgment so he takes it however often he can. He does not turn as he hears the tap of a cane and gives his undivided attention to the world, even as House sits down beside him, letting his cane clutter onto the ground.

He does not look away but when he feels a hand touching his, he turns them and clasps them together. They watch the amber streaks turn to ochre and then fade into a wash of indigo.

The once warm undertones turn into a dark ocean and make him feel free. Like they could do anything, and no one would care just because. Even the dull glimmer of the lit-up windows and small flickers of life in the sky would not betray them in this moment.

To experience the world with his world is enough. 

**Cherry**

Oh gosh he loved House. Loving him was like feeling the first rays of sunshine return after a long hard winter. It was sweet like Cherry jam on homemade loaf and made him feel as soft as freshly shaven wool. The love was brimming, and he wanted to shout off a rooftop that he was in love with House. Greg. Greggory House was his.

He wanted to kiss every bit of House that he could reach. He wanted to stroke his hair while watching crappy movies and wanted to share a carton of chocolate ice cream together. He does not have to want any more though; he can do it.

He wants House to know how much he loves him. Wants him to know that when he closes his eyes and thinks of House, all he can see are thousands of Sakura cherry blossoms. He wants to press kisses to his ankles and his knees. He wants to bite his wrists.

He does not want House to know that he refers to his lover as _baby_ sometimes in his head because no matter how House acts the complete opposite of that, he’s chases baby. Its stupid and affectionate but House is his baby.

He wants them to clasp their hands together, to always have that little physical connection with him. He wants to touch the end of Houses nose and say “boop”. He _adores_ House.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the second fic, yes the photo is from fetal position.

**Save room for us**

Chase tries not to let it get to him. He knows that he should be past these thoughts now that he and House are together but knowing and doing are different things. House is still flirting with Cuddy. It’s so stupid and completely useless to stress about but he just can’t shake the feeling that the flirting isn’t just flirting.

He’s watched House do it for several years now and no one just flirts for that long. Cuddy of course takes it all in and he can tell that she expects it, craves it even possibly by the way she slightly leans into House or gives him her full attention when he so demands it.

The way Houses eyes linger on her low blouses and tight skirts makes him feel uncomfortable because he could never be that for the older man. All he can give is his love and his subpar mismatched fashion sense.

Cuddy is stunning, even he can admit that. Who wouldn’t be drawn in by her alluring cerulean eyes? He feels a nudge in his hip and looks at House who’s stopped watching TV and is giving his full attention to Chase. _Crap_ thought the blond knowing that House would try to get him to empty his mind out.

That’s just how it was with House. If he did not know something, he’d give up everything just to find out, to dispel his own paranoid thoughts.

“What’s wrong?” House asks curiously. He’s been watching Chase all day and has seen him repeatedly stare into the distance. Chase seemed…detached. The sick need to know what his lover was thinking had forced him to ask. He needs to know.

Knowing House wouldn’t take a simple shrugging off as an answer, he braces himself and says “am I enough for you?” Gosh now I sound needy thought Chase.

House looks taken aback. He had not expected that, but he’d asked for it. “What makes you think that?” he questions, avoiding an answer straight away. He needs to revert so he can have a second to prepare for the conversation.

“It’s just…look I’m not accusing you of anything ok? It’s, well I don’t know how to ask you this. Ok I’m, are you into Cuddy?” There. He’s blurted it out. He waits nervously for Houses reply feeling slightly sick. Oh god, maybe he didn’t want to know. Why couldn’t he have just stayed quiet?

House snorts and Chase tenses, fear trickling down his spine. What if House said yes?

“Are you serious? My god Chase, after all this” and he gestures between them “you think I want _Cuddy_?”

Chase defensively says “well can you blame me? You flirt with her constantly and practically drool at her assets.”

House rolls his eyes and then turns them over to the tv for a second before looking back at Chase. “I do that to deflect the attention off us, ok? I mean yeah Cuddy’s hot stuff but I’m with you. That’s gotta count for something right?”

Chase, taken aback by Houses semi serious answer, takes a moment to process that and says “why do you need to deflect?” House rolls his eyes and huffs saying “because you, wombat, don’t want anyone knowing you’re with me, old guy obviously.”

“Woah woah woah. _House_. When did I ever say that? I don’t want us to hide.” Chase says, sidling up to House and holding his hand, his fear lessening and settling for sadness instead. Does House really think he’s ashamed of him?

“Oh.” House says looking slightly lost. He’d been so sure that Chase hadn’t wanted to be seen with him that he’d amped up the flirting with Cuddy just so he could push away the presumption that Chase and him were some dirty little secret.

Chase swallows the tears he feels coming up and puts his arm around Houses waist, holding him close. “I’m not ashamed of you, you complete yank. I very much like you, a lot and I don’t care if everyone we know knows ok?” and he has to make sure the older man understands that. He doesn’t want House to think so less of their relationship.

House nods slightly. Chase relaxes at his little sincere nod and kisses Houses head as he slumps against the blond.

**You looked my way**

It’s a Tuesday. The rain’s stopped and the clouds have cleared but the air is cold, and the atmosphere is bleak. Chase is sitting in a chair next to a hospital bed and feels a sense of dread filled déjà vu. How many times would he have to sit by his lover and watch him destroy himself? How many times would he have to look at evidence that he’d failed to protect House?

It’s 6am, the hospitals just starting to awaken, and the slight sounds do nothing to pull him out of his thoughts, out of his desperation and sadness. He can do nothing but wait for House to open his eyes. He clenches the photograph in his hand, one he’d snatched away years ago when they’d both been younger, with less scars and feels a sense of poignance overtake him.

Times had been so much simpler then.


	8. Chapter 8

**Cranky**

House is used to not getting enough sleep, from not being able to quiet his brain to not being able to sleep for even five minutes from the pain. His body has adjusted to the harsh conditions he puts it through from years of sleep deprivation so he’s able to function mostly even after an hour of sleep.

Chase, on the other hand _needs_ at least 6 hours of sleep. Without that, his face gets drawn and he gets deep purple bruises under his eyes. He gets slightly cranky and doesn’t bother to make coffee for House on these days.

Thank fully these days are far and few now that they’ve started sleeping together every night, but House had stayed all night at the hospital to check on the patient yesterday. He only does that when they have to pick the last resort for treatment and Chase stays with him because he doesn’t want his lover to be alone all night even if he’s just sitting there in the background, he wants to be there for House.

Last night however, he’d been unable to stop nodding off after everyone else had left and House had forced him to cop a ride with Cameron, so he’d slept alone. Today was a cranky day. Without Houses warm limbs tangling with his, he had been unable to nod off for more than an hour and had slept mostly in 20-minute intervals.

The only saving grace was that the rest of the fellows had matching eye bags. Foreman had started a coffee pot, enough for all three of them and he had just given the mugs to them when House decided to come in and snatch Chases mug, taking a big gulp.

Chase snatched the mug away from House before he’d even swallowed and pointedly took a gulp himself. “This is mine, House. Get your own” he snapped.

“Any improvements on the patient?” Cameron asked brushing off the incident, worried and equally desperate to hear that their useless hypothesising had gotten them somewhere. House slumped into a chair at the table and replied “well, he didn’t have lupus so the meds caused him to tank.”

He watched as a desperate look took over the team but before anybody could interrupt, he carried on “thank fully, daddy realised that it was Dermatomyositis so he’s on prednisone.”

Chase looked sheepishly at House, hearing that he had solved the case all by himself while he’d had the luxury of being at home, whether he’d been asleep or not.

“I’m going to sleep then” Foreman said, taking his time to leave just in case House decided to randomly decide to tell them they had another case already. At Houses seemingly uninterested face, Cameron also got up and hesitantly followed Foreman out the door.

Which left House and Chase. House turned to Chase and smirked. “Didn’t get much sleep last night?” 

Chase scowled and said “I’m fine.” “Right, which is why you’re suddenly a descendent of the great panda?” House quipped, enjoying snappy Chase. He was mostly always pleasant, so it was nice to poke fun at him like this.

“Shut up” Chase barked and House chuckled. Gosh he was cute all disgruntled like this. “Let’s go home” House said pushing Chase towards the door. The blond turned around and said accusingly “you could’ve told us this over the phone”

House smirked and said “where would be the fun in that?” and Chases face crumpled in annoyance as he said “I hate you” marching off to the lift. House followed him close behind and smiled indulgently. Nice to know that he had a hard time sleeping without him.

**Give me something to remember you by**

Four more days until Chase came back. House chewed on the reheated takeout noodles, distracted and didn't even try to listen to Wilson whilst he yammered on about useless hospital gossip. Chase had left with one of his friends from Australia after he’d insisted on being accompanied on his vacation and House had been left alone for a week.

A weeks no big deal thought House as he tried to convince himself Chase would come back after he’d said goodbye and turned his back away for the last time. It was entirely stupid but an hour after he’d gone, House had dug through his drawers and slipped on a pair of the younger’s socks.

They were ugly with multicoloured stripes, dad socks he thought but they were _Chases._ The anxiety of him not coming back was kept partially at bay with alcohol, extra Vicodin and well…his socks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Allll right that's it. Finitoo. I might add more chapters on in the future if I can muster the energy but for now, it's complete, hope you enjoyed <333


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